Office Repair Blues
by Dark McCloud
Summary: Alucard and Walter get sentenced to repairing Integra's office after one of Alucards crazy stunts destroys it. Walter and Alucard OOCness galore. Ch4 is up what will the mismatched office repair team do when they go to assemble Integra's new furniture an
1. And So It Begins

Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing. Alucard and Walter OOC-ness ahead.

-o-

"ALUCARD!"

Sir Integra's angry yells could be heard all throughout Hellsing headquarters. And the same thought crossed all of the building's occupants' minds.

What had Alucard done now?

The next thing that could be heard was gunshots, and Walter and Seras had to stifle laughs from outside the door of Integra's office. She had actually shot Alucard! Not that it was an uncommon occurrence; in fact it seemed to be her favorite stress reliever. However, it was a red flag indicator that she was truly mad at Hellsing's top vampire hunter.

Inside the office, Integra held her head in her hand, and sighed. "So let me get this straight." She lit a cigar, thinking that she might need an entire box of them to calm down after Alucard's latest incident. "Walter blackmailed you into mowing the lawn, but you poured diesel fuel into the gas tank by accident. And," she gestured to the wall, where a seven by five foot gaping hole gave her a lovely view of the garden beneath. "This happened." Despite her rage, Integra couldn't help but chuckle as she imagined what kind of information Walter was blackmailing Alucard with. She made a mental note to ask the butler about it later.

Alucard nodded.

Integra groaned again. Her left eyebrow twitched, and she loaded her gun again. As she aimed and prepared to fire, a perfectly evil plan came to mind. She set down her gun and began to cackle insanely. Alucard blinked. And people thought his laugh was insane. Obviously they had never heard Integra's.

"Alright Alucard." Integra laced her fingers together and rested her chin on top of them, glaring at him evilly over her glasses. "Two can play at this game." The vampire shifted his feet nervously. He didn't like the sound of her voice.

An hour later, Alucard and Walter were waving as Integra's chauffer pulled away with the Lady and Seras in the backseat. Integra had insisted that Seras accompany her on her little 'vacation' to get away from the stresses of work, aka Alucard.

-o-

Walter surveyed the hole in Integra's office wall while Alucard paced, cursing everything from four eyed bosses with nothing better to do then shoot him in the head (Integra), to monocled jackasses who messed up the gasoline system (Walter), to the little white poodle next door and Father Anderson's cactus plant.

"Well," Walter concluded, straightening and adjusting his monocle. "It's fixable, but we are going to need a few supplies."

Alucard paled. "You mean…"

"Indeed. Road trip."

"Dammit."

-o-

Alucard sat sulking in the front passenger seat of Walter's car. He pushed his sunglasses further up on his nose. Not only was he being dragged out into society, unarmed at that, it was broad daylight. Sure, sun wouldn't kill him, but he hated it immensely. Alucard glared out the window, scaring small children.

"Alucard, you act like you're being dragged into the fires of Hell itself," Walter commented, stopping at a red light and looking over.

Alucard turned his glare onto Walter. Oh if the butler only knew the torture he was putting the vampire through. With a groan and a muttered curse, he turned back to scaring small children.

What he wouldn't give to be back in his coffin.

Sighing, the vampire pulled his trademark hat down over his eyes and relaxed into his chair. Sunlight made him sleepy. Maybe when he woke up he would find out this was all some horrible nightmare.

No such luck. Alucard was shaken awake, none to gently, by Walter, announcing that they had arrived. The tall vampire stepped out of the car and found himself nose-to-nose with a giant sign, reading "ACME Hardware Store", in fluorescent shades of green and yellow. "Why is it always ACME?" he wondered aloud, pondering the possible copyright infringements this store's name was causing. This thought was not pondered long, however, as a crowd of impatient shoppers shoved him out of the way. He found himself trampled under the crowd, and Walter stood by the sign, making no move to help. The butler found the entire situation quite hilarious, and was still chuckling to himself as he made his way into the store, muttering something about karma. Alucard, his new abrasions and bruises healing, followed.

If he had thought that outside was bad, it was nothing compared to inside. Silence seemed to blanket over the store as they entered, all eyes on the crimson-clad vampire. A store associate walked up to Alucard, the man physically shaking with nerves.

" I'll have to ask you to remove your sunglasses," the young man said timidly.

"Oh really," said Alucard, grinning insanely, showing his fangs. He pulled his sunglasses down to the tip of his nose, far enough to give the salesman a good look at his blood red eyes. He shoved the sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose as the salesman ran away, screaming. Noise gradually came back to the shoppers, but it was significantly quieter, and everyone kept giving Alucard nervous looks out of the corner of their eyes.

Alucard turned to Walter. "And what the hell are you laughing at?"

-o-

The odd pair made their way through the hardware store. Slowly. It seemed that all the occupants of London were present in this particular hardware store, on this particular day. And they were back to making a lot of noise. It was a bit like Mardi Gras…except without the beads. And everyone had their shirt on.

Alucard had a scowl plastered on his face as he glared at the backs of people's heads. Sparks flew out of his eyes, roasting various small objects on the shelves. "How long is this goddamn line going to take?" Alucard grouched, pulling down his hat.

Walter sighed, pondering running away like the hounds of Hades were on his trail and having a few stiff drinks and a pint of Chunky Monkey with Father Maxwell.

Alucard suddenly brightened. "Can I use a flamethrower?"

"No!"

"Please?"

"No!"

"But a flamethrower would be so much more efficient."

"Alucard, you can't just roast a bunch of people to save yourself five minutes of waiting in a hardware store."

"…why not?"

"Alucard!"

-o-

The pair emerged from the hardware store twenty minutes later, Alucard laden with several bags and two cans of paint. The irate vampire dumped his load into the trunk of Walter's car and slunk around to the passenger seat.

"Are we ready to go back yet?" he whined.

"Nope."

Alucard had to restrain himself from lunging at the butler's neck.

"We still have to get Integra a new desk, remember?"

Alucard's scream echoed for an eighty mile radius, so loud he could have woken the dead.

A few wandering ghouls wondered what the hell was going on.

-o-

Walter pulled the car into an empty parking spot outside ACME Furniture store. Alucard, seeing the sign in all of its fluorescent glory, decided that the ACME people were stalking him, and decreed that when he was King of the World, all stores named ACME would be burned to the ground.

That was the last thought that crossed his mind before the pavement zoomed in out of nowhere and smacked him upside the head.

And here come the pretty birdies.

Walter could hardly contain his laughter as Alucard was stampeded for the second time that day. The butler was rolling on the ground, sides aching, desperately gasping for breath between giggles. Alucard found the situation slightly less funny then Walter and peeled himself off the ground, storming into the store.

"Not a word, butler. Not a word."

The pair entered the furniture store, Alucard cursing under his breath and Walter chuckling. They were greeted by a salesman in a cheap plaid suit.

"We're looking for furniture," Alucard said, as if they would be shopping for anything else in a furniture store.

"I never would have guessed," the salesman said dryly, adjusting the cuffs of his tacky suit. "Could you possibly be a little more specific?"

"A desk," Alucard said, anxious to get out of the store.

"I see."

Alucard, angered by the man's slow responsiveness, pushed him out of the way and stormed past hi, determined to outwit the ACME stalkers and sarcastic salesmen in tacky suits. Walter, seeing no better option, followed him.

"Ok, here's a desk, let's go," Alucard said, stopping by a piece of furniture.

"…Alucard, that's a kitchen table."

The vampire blinked, looking down at the round, glass topped table. "So it is." And with that cryptic statement, Alucard gathered the shards of his dignity and stalked off.

-o-

After several more unsuccessful encounters with salesmen in the furniture store, Walter and Alucard managed to escape from the store with a desk in tow. After hauling it into the backseat, Walter glanced down at his shopping list.

"Next," the butler began, "we are going—"

"Back into the first circle of Hell and out of the seventh?" Alucard asked hopefully.

"See Alucard? Shopping is already bringing out your happier side!"

Alucard wondered briefly what part of Hell was happy to Walter.

"As I was saying, we are going to return to the mansion—"

"And I'm free to sleep?" Alucard interrupted again.

"No! Listen to me! We are going back to the mansion and FIXING Integra's office," Walter said, spitting the last part out before the irate vampire could interrupt him again.

"Damn…" the vampire sighed, sinking back into the upholstering of his chair.

-To be continued-

Author's Note: Hi all! This is my first serious Hellsing fic. I've been working on bits and pieces of it for a while, and decided since I wasn't really getting anywhere, I'd publish what I had and take some feedback on ideas for the actual fixing of the office. Of course, it will involve paint attacks and assembling of desks, as well as many headaches to our favorite Dark Vampire Lord. So for now, review, please?

(I don't know when I'll get a chance to publish another chapter. Marching band is the ruling force of my life until the end of November, so it might be a while.)


	2. Enter Iscariot

Disclaimer: Still don't own Hellsing or anything associated with said anime/manga.

-o-

Office Repair Blues

Chapter II

-o-

Integra sighed happily, sinking back into cushioned comfort. Getting away from all that paperwork was a good idea, she thought happily to herself as she relaxed into the overstuffed armchair, the plainly decorated hotel décor surrounding her. Seras was sitting on the floor with a laptop, typing furiously.

"What are you doing?" Integra asked, noting the blonde vampire's mad clicking.

"A bit of creative writing," Seras answered.

"Oh? I didn't know you wrote," Integra commented, now interested. "What are you writing about?"

"I'm writing an account of Walter and Master fixing your office," Seras still didn't look up. "I even found this great site to publish it on. It's called or something like that."

"Really?" Integra mused, leaning down to glance over Seras's shoulder. "Who would want to read an account of Walter and Alucard fixing my office?"

-o-

Meanwhile, Walter had made it back to the mansion with Alucard in tow causing minimal damage to the butler's sanity. After getting the brilliant idea to hit the vampire over the head with an aluminum baseball bat, he had stuffed him in the trunk and driven home in some much needed silence. Unfortunately, he hadn't thought this action all the way through, and not only had an extremely grumpy and sleep deprived vampire with homicidal tendencies, but now had an extremely grumpy and sleep deprived vampire with homicidal tendenceies and an extremely large headache.

And he listened to Alucard's grouching all the way through the mansion, up to Integra's office.

_Password?_ the voice activated pinpad next to Integra's door inquired.

"Alucard has a pink teddy bear," Walter replied absently, examining a can of paint and wondering if it would be the right shade.

That was the last thought going through his head before he saw the pretty yellow birdies. Alucard stood over the butler with an aluminum baseball bat in tow.

"Uh…Whoops?"

-o-

The phone in Father Maxwell's office began to ring. The priest groaned, sifting through mountains of paperwork to locate the ringing device. He was currently buried up to his glasses in papers and wanted nothing more than to go hide in a corner and get away from it all. Finally, he located the phone.

"Hello?"

"How long will it take you Catholic swine to reach England?" the irritated voice on the other end of the line inquired.

Father Maxwell blinked. He knew that voice. He knew that voice all too well. "…Alucard?" he said, more to himself than the vampire on the other end of the line.

"Of course its me, foolish mortal," the vampire huffed. "I want you on the next giant metal bird en route to Hellsing Manor. You better start packing, priest."

If not for his preoccupation, Maxwell might have come up with some kind of sarcastic retort for the lapdog of his arch enemy. However, he had his steadily growing mountain of paperwork to deal with, as well as an unfortunate incident that morning involving Anderson, a poodle, and a very large pair of hedge clippers. He shuddered to himself.

"And why, pray tell," he said carefully, "is the Protestant sow calling _me_?"

"It's a long story." Alucard ignored his name calling of Integra. Maxwell began to grasp the severity of the situation. "Now, if you don't have your ritous ass on a plane in the next five minutes, I'm calling the Pope and telling him about your secret affinity for the movie _Bruce Almighty_." Alucard wasn't familier with the Catholic faith, but he was pretty sure that was a sin in there somewhere.

The line went dead, leaving a stunned Maxwell staring at the receiver as if the Devil himself had popped out of it.

Fifteen minutes later, Maxwell and a reluctant Anderson sat comfortably in first class, the latter absorbed in a newspaper. "Ah still don't get what's with ye, Maxwell," Anderson said, not looking up.

Maxwell sat with his arms crossed, glaring at the headrest in front of him as if it would attack him. The headrest stared back at him indifferently. Annoyed by its lack of response, he lashed out a fist and punched it. The little old lady in the seat turned around and started beating him with a handbag. Anderson buried his face in his newspaper, concealing his laughter as Maxwell tried to apologize.

"Miserable old fossil," Maxwell grumbled as the old lady turned back around. He straightened his collar and slumped back in his seat, then turned to glare at Anderson.

"And what are you laughing about?"

-o-

The rest of the plane ride was relatively uneventful. Anderson had gotten little information out of Maxwell, having only caught the words "Devil", "Protestant swine", and "Jim Carrey" out of the priest's brief rant. Finally, Maxwell had pulled out a rosary and began to pray rapidly. Anderson shook his head and returned to his pilfered newspaper, wondering just how stupid the general population of England was.

**Man Pays For Coffee With Stolen Money**

_After holding up a coffee shop clerk and stealing all the money from the cash register, some nine hundred pounds, the armed robber then proceeded to use five pounds of his proceeds to pay for a venti mocha white chocolate latte with cream._

"I didn't know the English drank coffee," Anderson mused aloud.

**London Man Shoots Wife, Mistaking Her For A Monkey**

_A fifty year old London man was brought into police custody yesterday after firing a gun at his wife. He claims to have mistaken her for a monkey escaped from the local zoo, as she was climbing a tree in the backyard of the couple's home. She was pronounced dead at the scene, leaving the couple's eight children now orphaned._

Anderson didn't know if he should laugh hysterically or cry. The man must have been blind or had a really ugly wife. But to produce eight children…? Unless she had octuplets, they must have been rather busy behind closed doors. He shook his head and turned the page, decided that the general population of England couldn't get any stupider.

**Drunken Man Cooks Own Genitals.**

"We have a new winner."

Anderson made a mental note to warn Father Maxwell to stay away from the sacrifical wine.

-o-

A few hours later, a cab was dropping Father Maxwell and Anderson in front of the Hellsing manor. After a brief scan of the perimeter, Maxwell detected no fires, no explosions, no deaths, and no alien invasions. So why in the world would Alucard call them here?

As they came up with walkway, the first thing they saw was Alucard running down the path like his ass was on fire.

The second thing they saw was that Alucard's ass really was on fire.

Anderson and Maxwell blinked as the red clad vampire ran past them, coat tails aflame, dashing into the street and nearly causing a seven car pileup in his wake.

Walter appeared in the doorway, holding a flamethrower and wearing a triumphant smirk. "Father Maxwell, Father Anderson," he said, beconing to them. He frowned at their looks of skepticism and remembered the flamethrower. He tossed it aside quickly. "Come in, please."

The priests reluctantly followed the butler inside, still confused as to the situation that had just played out before them, and why they were even here at all. "Can I offer you some tea?" Walter asked.

"Just tell us why that psycho vampire called us here," Maxwell said between gritted teeth, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a large armchair with a bowl of popcorn and Pay-Per-View.

"Ah. That." There was a long silence as Walter lead them up a few flights of stairs. Maxwell recognized the route as the one leading to grand office of Hellsing herself. The sight that awaited them, however, was not the office of the grand Hellsing.

The room was in shambles, a large seven by five foot hole making a large portrait window with a lovely view of the garden below. Papers were scattered everywhere, most ruined. The desk was cleanly split in two.

"Lady Hellsing must have had a serious case of PMS," Anderson said, breaking the long silence.

"Actually, it was Alucard's doing," Walter corrected. "And the Lawnmower From Hell, of course."

"Lawnmower From Hell?" Maxwell echoed.

"It's a long story. Sure you don't want that tea?"

-o-

"You want me to WHAT?" Maxwell shouted, glaring at the butler over the steam from his tea cup.

"I want you to exorcise the Lawnmower," Walter repeated calmly.

"That's what I was called here for?" the priest demanded, his glare deepening.

"How can a lawnmower be possessed?" Anderson mused skeptically, more to himself than anyone else, as no one was listening to him at the moment.

"Look, I know it sounds foolish, but Alucard has himself convinced that the lawnmower is possessed. And we don't need another hole in the office."

"Why don't you just buy a new lawnmower?" Anderson suggested, tuning back in. He was ignored again. Sighing, the paladin turned back to his newspaper.

-o-

Integra returned from her afternoon trip to the hot tub to find Seras back at her laptop, typing again. The knight glanced over her shoulder, reading the last few lines.

"Seras, Alucard calling Maxwell to exorcise a lawnmower?" Integra chuckled to herself. "You have quite the creative mind."

-To Be Continued…Again…-

Author's Note: First off, thank you to all the reviewers from the last chapter. I felt special seeing FFN emails in my inbox five days in a row. Now I know I'm already a month behind, and I promised there would be a Part II. Now it looks like there's going to be a Part III. To be completed whenver I have time. See profile for more details.

The first newspaper article that Anderson read was actually based on a real event. Sad. I think I got one of the others off some website or from another fic. I can't remember where.

Part III will be coming. Eventually. In the meantime, review? And suggest ideas? Reviews motivate me to write faster. Thanks for reading!


	3. Plaster Fights and Satanic Jeans

Dislaimer: Seriously. See previous chapters. More OOC-ness ahead.

-o-

Office Repair Blues

Chapter III

-o-

The doorbell rang. Two repair men who had been called by Walter a few hours earlier stood on the doorstep, trying to ignore the priest standing over the burnt ruins of what looked like it was once a lawnmower. Father Maxwell looked surprisingly professional, despite the fact that he felt like the world's biggest fool. His ceremonial robes fluttered about him as he moved around the lawnmower with incense, praying for its lack of immortal soul. The repair men shifted nervously, and jumped when Walter opened the door behind him.

"Ah, you must be from ACME repair company," Walter said cordially, holding open the door, oblivious to the nervous looks the repair men were giving Maxwell.

The two neon-clad employees stepped into the mansion after Walter, following the butler upstairs.

"Well, this is it," Walter said, opening Integra's office and gesturing to the smashed wall.

They gaped at it for a few seconds before one repair man asked, "How did this happen? That hole is enormous!"

Walter was silent for a moment. Then, "Did you see the lawnmower outside?"

-o-

Alucard heard the doorbell from his basement lair. At first he rolled over and went back to sleep, but the curiosity was getting to him. Finally, he rose from his coffin, determining he wasn't going to get any sleep until he found out the source of this disturbance. He heard voices coming from Integra's office, and phased through the walls and up the stairs.

The two ACME men stared at Walter in shock. After hearing the fantastic tale of the Lawnmower of Doom, along with Hellsing's infamous reputation for being slayers of the supernatural, the men were a bit more than nervous.

But when Alucard's head, complete with trademark red hat, came through the floor to investigate, both the vampire and the workmen let out simultaneous screams.

Walter blinked and watched as the ACME men ran for their lives, being chased by Alucard and an extremely large flamethrower.

-o-

"I haven't heard from the mansion lately," Integra said to Seras over dinner. She speared a potato and popped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Perhaps we should go back."

"I'm not sure that's wise, Sir," Seras answered as she poured her glass of water in a nearby plant to make it look like she drank it. "Wouldn't Walter have contacted you if they were ready?"

"No. I didn't tell them where we were. And how would they think to check this remote island off in the Caribean?"

"So that's how you did it," Seras said in awe. "I was wondering why they didn't follow us."

"Ah, I learned that the last time I tried to take a vacation. I made the mistake of leaving the number of the hotel I was staying at, and within the hour I had a list of phone messages a mile long. Though," Integra leaned back in her chair. "I suppose it is rather quiet without Alucard's constant disturbances."

"Don't tell me you actually miss him."

"A bit, I suppose." Then Integra made a face. "But then I remember incidents like the Lawnmower of Doom, and I remember why I got away in the first place." She waved over the waiter. "Lets go back to the room."

-o-

Walter continued to stare in shock as the workmen drove in their truck and sped away like Hell itself was on their heels. This analogy was actually not far from the truth, as Alucard was firing the flamethrower in random directions and laughing manically. The butler didn't even have to leave the room, as the repairmen hired to fix the gaping hole in the wall were currently causing about 26 traffic law violations as they sped away.

"Twenty-seven," Walter sighed as the truck ran a red light. Then he went to find the plaster he had purchased earlier that day.

-o-

One person at the Hellsing mansion was actually enjoying this office repair session. Father Alexander Anderson hummed to himself as he carried a lawn chair, a glass of iced tea, and his ever present newspaper outside to enjoy the sun. The paladin set up his lawn chair in a particularly shaded area, dragged up a table to put his iced tea on, and settled himself down to read his newspaper.

Anderson was enjoying this little vacation. No crazed vampires in neon chicken suits claiming to be the ruler of all the goats in Switzerland, no constant threats from various enemies of the Vatican, and best of all, no Maxwell to nag him about relaxing instead of doing work. Anderson smiled to himself as he opened to the front page. He made a mental note to take vacations more often. Hawaii was supposed to be nice this time of year…

**Woman Swallows Cell Phone**

"Not again…" Anderson groaned, seeing yet more unusual headlines.

_In an effort to hide the device from her boyfriend, a young woman swallowed her own cellular telephone. She appeared in the emergency room a few hours later, concerned that she was hearing strange music. When the doctor put a stethoscope to her chest, he was shocked to hear the chords of _Oh When the Saints Go Marching In_. The woman was given several laxitives in an attempt to flush the device out of her system._

Anderson, disturbed, quickly turned the page.

**Satanist Jeans a Hot Seller in Sweden**

_A tight-fitting, punk rock style of jeans has made its way into Sweden. While the jeans appear harmless, the logo features a grinning skull with an upside-down cross. Though this did not cause a huge uprising, the jeans are now being shipped to more religious countries and controversy is expected. The company that makes the jeans has received more than one message complaining about the logo, but they plan to continue to manufacture the denim pants. These jeans are being shipped to France, Britan, and Australia, as well as many other countries._

Anderson ripped the article out of the paper and stuffed it in his pocket, reminding himself to show it to Maxwell later.

**Pack of Angry Chihuahuas attack Local Repairmen**

"This could be amusing," Anderson mused, reading on.

_Two repair men from a local company approached a woman's house. When she opened the door, the men started feeding her a story so ridiculous the elderly woman sent her seven Chihuahuas chasing after them. The repair men's story involved a demonic lawnmower and being chased by a man in a red hat who was heavily armed. The police are looking into possible drug abuse in this case._

Anderson blinked twice, then burst out laughing. He fell out of his lawn chair and began rolling around on the ground, gales of laughter bursting from his lungs. The paladin gasped for breath as he managed to climb back into the lawn chair.

"Oh, if they only knew…"

-o-

Two men in neon shirts with the ACME logo on the back ran around town with a homicidal vampire and a pack of angry Chihuahaus chasing them.

-o-

Alucard returned to the Hellsing mansion to find Walter and Maxwell with a large can of plaster between them. Walter had already managed to fill in most of the hole, and they were applying the plaster over it. Without looking up, Walter tossed a tool in Alucard's general direction.

"You can do the top," he said, pointing up. "You're the tallest."

Grumbling under his breath, but knowing better than to argue with the irate butler, Alucard scooped up some plaster and set to work. After a few minutes, however, he grew bored and looked around the room for some kind of excuse to escape. His eyes fell on the large container of plaster, and an evil grin crept onto his face.

He snuck over and made a big show of getting a scoop to continue his manual labor, secretly forming a large ball of the white substance.

"Snowball fight!" he yelled suddenly, flinging the ball at Maxwell. The Judas priest looked up and his eyes grew wide as he saw a large ball of wet plaster flying straight towards him. He dove out of the way just in time.

The plaster connected with Walter's face.

Alucard paled and ran for his life as Walter chased him through the Hellsing mansion.

-o-

A few hours later, Walter, Alucard, and Maxwell had applied the last of the plaster to the wall and stood back to admire their work.

"I think we're just about done," Walter said happily, stacking the supplies in a corner and surveying their work. "Just have to assemble the furniture and paint the office."

"Does that mean I can go now?" Alucard asked hopefully.

"Yes, yes," Walter said absently.

"See you, suckers!" Alcard cackled as he prepared to phase through the wall.

"Alucard, wait!" Walter yelled, noticing the vampire going through the newly plastered wall. "Don't go through the…" The vampire vanished. "…wall."

Out on the grounds, Anderson folded up his newspaper, picked up his iced tea glass, and turned to go inside. A plaster-covered, pissed off vampire landed at his feet.

"Ah didn't know we were going to hae rain," Anderson joked. He then started laughing. "Alucard, ye look like ae snowman!"

Walter and Maxwell at that time came running out the door. They skidded to a halt when they were greeted with the sight of a priest on the ground, tears streaming down his face from laughing too hard, and a formerly red clad vampire looking very much like a homicidal version of Frosty the Snowman.

"Screw you, Anderson."

- As always… To Be Continued –

Author's Notes: First of all, those stories in Anderson's newspaper are actually based off real events. I'm not poking fun at anybody in particular, its just for amusement.

Secondly, I'm hoping that the next installment will be the last, though I make no guarantees. But I'm pretty sure there won't be more than two chapters at the most, one for assembling the furniture, and an epilogue type thing for the homecoming. See my profile for more detailed information on why my updates are so slow. My current goal is to get this done by the end of January, but I make no guarantees, especially with the end of semester at the end of January. Again, see profile for more details.

Until we meet again, review? Reviews inspire me to update faster. And as always, I love suggestions given by readers. They help eliminate the Evil Writers Block.

Disclaimer: Cheap Monday jeans (the satanic ones) a real brand of jeans. The article where I found this can be found at I really didn't make that up. o.O


	4. Pedro, the Spanish Translator

Disclaimer: I won the rights to Hellsing off Kohta Hirona in a game of blackjack. Alright, maybe not. I have no rights to Hellsing. I'm not making money off this, though it would be nice if I were…

-o-

Office Repair Blues

Chapter IV

-o-

It was when Maxwell spilled his morning coffee all over the kitchen that he got the first inkling of a bad day ahead. The priest screamed something that was definitely not Christian as the scalding coffee burned his hand. Still cursing through gritted teeth, he cleaned up the mess and reached for the pot. A second string of colorful curses erupted when he realized it was empty. With a groan, Maxwell headed for the door to find a coffee shop.

It took him three hours of driving around in circles to remember that most British people don't drink coffee.

A tired, caffine-deprived priest made his way back up to the Hellsing Manor, dreading what crazy repairs Walter had planned for the day. He tried the door. It was locked. Maxwell sighed and rang the doorbell.

A head wearing a familier red hat poked through the peephole.

"Oh," Alucard said blankly, and the two stared at each other for a minute. "If you don't have Caramel Delights Girl Scout Cookies, we're not interested."

"Alucard, I don't have any—"

"How about Thin Mints?"

"Alucard, I'm not selling Girl Scout cookies!"

"Could have fooled me," Alucard muttered. "Well we only buy Avon Products, so you can tell Mary Kay to kiss my—"

"ALUCARD! I'm not selling anything!" Maxwell felt a vein explode and sudden urges to consume mass quantities of whisky and nicotine were rising. "Do I look like a salesman to you?"

Alucard pictured the furniture salesmen in their tacky suits. "I suppose not. Well, we're not interested in the faiths of a Jehova's Witness; I think Walter was using your pamphlets for toilet paper." His head retreated back inside.

"I'M NOT—" Maxwell blinked. "…what?"

"Budget cuts," Alucard said, head reemerging from the peephole. "I suppose you want to come in."

"No, but I have a feeling you're going to make me anyway."

"Yep. I'm not suffering with the Wacky Cleaning Wonder in there alone." And Alucard phased the rest of himself through the door and grabbed Maxwell by the collar.

"Alucard?"

"Yes, Judas priest?"

"You know, you're only supposed to put your eye through the peephole, not your whole head."

"I knew that."

"Sure you did."

-o-

Anderson watched Alucard and Maxwell troop upstairs, making the long trek to Integra's still-ruined office. He had a good view of the stairs from his position at the kitchen table, a plate of toast infront of him and the daily newspaper by his side. The paladin had been doing a good job of avoiding being noticed and forced to help, and he intended it to stay that way. Biting into his toast, he opened his new favorite source of entertainment to read up on the local crazies.

**Ninja Shot Dead**

"Well this could be amusing," Anderson said, glancing at the headline. He continued reading.

_A middle aged man followed an elderly woman home from the grocery store last Thursday. Oddly, he was dressed in a ninja suit. He attempted to break into her house when they reached it, but the woman's husband saw her stalker and shot the ninja three times. _

_The Ninja was found dead at the scene._

_The ninja has yet to be identified. The London police chief says that they are looking for a white middle aged male and has submitted his fingerprints for testing in the police database._

The article went on to describe the elderly woman and her husband, but Anderson was laughing too hard to continue.

"A stalker ninja…what will they come up with next?"

-o-

Maxwell and Alucard entered the Office of Doom to see Walter sitting on the floor, surrounded by large boxes. The butler had a large book in his hands, about as thick as Tolstoy's _War and Peace_ and just as picture-less. He was flipping through it, glaring angrily at the pages.

The pages stared back.

Walter screamed in frustration and flung the book away. It bounced off Alucard's head and landed in Maxwell's hand. The priest examined it while Alucard nursed his new wound, glaring daggers at the butler.

"This is the longest instruction manual I've ever seen," Maxwell commented offhandedly.

"Clearly you've never read the Bible," Alucard muttered, and Maxwell shot him a dirty look.

"That is for Integra's new desk," Walter interjected before any more fights could break out and ruin the already ruined office. "And don't start fights. Or we'll have to fix the wall all over again."

Maxwell and Alucard shut up quickly.

"I guess when it said _Some Assembly Requiered_ they meant it," Maxwell said, observing the contents of one of the boxes. There were large pieces of wood, about three dozen screws of all different shapes and sizes, and an equal number of nuts, bolts, and other assorted hardware. "Can't we just use duct tape and super glue?"

"NO!" Walter yelled. "We cannot use duct tape and super glue to assemble Integra's new desk."

"…why not?"

"ARG!"

"Never mind. Forget I asked. But seriously," Maxwell said, displaying the book. "How are we going to make heads or tales of this?"

"Very, very carefully," Alucard suggested, dumping the contents of a box into the middle of the floor and examining a screw.

"Well I don't understand a word of it! I'm sorry I don't speak fluent moronese," Maxwell spat.

"…You mean German?"

"Of course you don't understand any of it," Walter said, taking the book away from Maxwell. "Its in Spanish."

"SPANISH!" Maxwell yelled. "Who the hell speaks Spanish in England?"

"Made in Taiwan," Alucard read off the side of the box.

"That explains it."

Walter and Alucard both stared at Maxwell, who blinked.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Who speaks Spanish in Taiwan?"

-o-

Anderson headed upstairs towards Integra's office holding a cup of coffee. He had spent the better part of the morning searching for it, and was proud of his prize. The priest sighed as he took another sip of the treasured liquid and climbed the rest of the stairs.

"They should really have an elevator in this place," he mused aloud as he poked his head around the corner.

Maxwell was holding a large piece of plywood while Walter stood with a bolt in hand. "Connect screw B into angle slot D…there is no angle slot D!" he yelled in frustration, throwing the bolt at Pedro, the Spanish translator the frustrated butler had called. It bounced off Pedro's head and landed in Anderson's coffee. The priest frowned and plucked it out, handing the bolt back to Maxwell.

"Is that coffee I smell?" Maxwell said, sniffing the bolt. Without warning, he began gnawing on it as Walter directed his anger at Alucard.

"Alucard, pass me a monkey wrench."

"What's a monkey wrench?" the vampire asked curiously.

"That thing you're holding in your hand."

"How can I be holding a monkey wrench when I'm not a monkey? You should go to the zoo. They have monkeys there," Alucard said helpfully, still examining the monkey wrench he held in his hand.

"SWEET MERCY MAHEM!" the butler screamed in frustration.

There was silence. All eyes were Walter.

"What?" he asked, noting the unusual quietness of the room.

"What did you just say?" Anderson asked. Walter paled.

"I don't know," he said honestly. "I just yelled the first thing that came into my mind. What…did I say?"

"LOVER!" Alucard yelled, leaping across the room.

"Ya said, and I quote, 'Sweet Mercy Mayhem'," Anderson said, trying not to laugh. "You were just asking for that one."

"No! No!" Walter yelled as he ran away from Alucard, who was chasing him. The image of the vampire sending him cards and a teddy bear on Valentines Day was just too sickening. He jumped inside one of the empty boxes and closed it. Alucard, too intent on chasing him, tripped over the box and fell. He dusted himself off, then asked his hat if it had a pen and paper on it with which he might write Walter a love letter.

Anderson blinked, seeing Maxwell still gnawing on the bolt craving caffine, Walter locked in a cardboard box, and Alucard composing a poem to his 'strawberry shortcake' on a piece of pink, flower scented paper.

"What do I do?" he mused aloud, wondering if this group might make it into tomorrow's newspaper headline.

"Let's have a fiesta!" Pedro yelled, slamming a sombrero onto Anderson's head and pulling out a pair of maracas.

"Weren't you supposed to be knocked out?"

-o-

Author's Notes:

The Ninja article is real. I wasn't making it up. (http/ Seriously, though, I was laughing hysterically when I ever saw that headline.

I know I've been terrible about updating, but I'll try to get a few more updates in before May. I have no idea when this is going to end; its just kind of going along at its own little pace. Thanks for all the feedback I've been getting on this; keep reviewing, please? Ideas for new torture, anyone?


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